Angel of Mercy
by B0N35
Summary: A crisis at the Jeffersonian causes relationships to blossom and friendships to strengthen...the team have to be a TEAM to beat this one....R and R please.


Angel of Mercy

The electricity shot up his spine, his back arching, face contorted, teeth clenched. His hands were gripping the handles of the chair so tightly he felt as if it may break, but the nails that had been hammered through his hands prevented that. The currents flew through him again and his vision blew. Images came back blurry and unfocused. The whiplashes and cuts on his back were stinging. They didn't so much anymore, just a sting. His head was killing. He wanted it to end, he didn't care how. It just needed to end.

Harry was getting older by the day, his back hurt more often but he was a loyal and devoted man to his job. Every night, after all of the Scientists had gone, he would go round, empty the toxic waste bins, wipe down the surfaces and clean up. He never minded his job and the people that worked here were reasonably clean. He started up towards the platform and swiped his card. He stopped, there was some kind of substance on the floor, and following it up he saw a horrific sight. Someone was tied to a chair, their hands nailed into the arm rests, two white patches stuck to their chest with long wires connected to a black box next to him on the table. There was blood on his chest and back. Blood on his head, Harry doubled over and retched. When he could stand again he reached for his radio and pressed the emergency button,

"Yes"

A Voice crackled through the speaker,

"I've found a body, I think he's dead."

Angela walked into work, nibbling on a cinnamon roll. She wore tight skinny blue jeans, slightly darker than usual and a long sleeved black cardigan. Brennan had called her in early that morning, something was up and Booth wanted them both at the office pronto. She threw her napkin in the bin at the sliding doors and looked around. There was yellow tape and flashing lights, this could not be good. She sprinted up to the Platform and met Booth, Cam, Brennan and an armed officer. She counted the heads and there was one missing. She felt the ice fill up in her chest freezing her, the shock making her gasp. She turned to face the body in the chair. It was Hodgins.

Angela woke up. Her vision was blurry and distorted and when she sat up Brennan's face in and out of focus.

"Whoa, easy Ange" Brennan smiled as her best friend sat up and winced. She reached over and picked out an icepack from the cool box and put it on Angela's head.

"You passed out and bumped your head; there should be no permanent damage." Angela nodded and swallowed.

"Was what I saw a really sick joke... or what I think I saw" Brennan looked sympathetic and rested her hand on Angela's arm. Angela rested her head on Brennan's shoulder and let the tears fall. Brennan rubbed her back and a tear fell down her own cheek.

On the platform, Cam stood with a camera around her neck with Booth on the platform.

"We'll need Angela to take photos of ... the body and see if we can identify the type of weapon used on each of his wounds." Booth said while taking notes in his notebook. Cam sighed and nodded, handing the camera to Booth who went off. He found Brennan and Angela in the same position and his heart melted for them. Bones' eyes were glistening with tears and Angela's head was down, her curls cascading across her face.

"Angela," Booth said softly, "Angela we need you to take photos of the body."

Angela looked up, tears stained her pretty face and her eyes were heartbroken. Booth took her hand and nodded in encouragement. Angela nodded and got up; taking the camera off Booth she headed over to the platform. Brennan stood up and locked gazes with Booth. He took her into his arms and she cried against his chest. They stood their holding each other.

Angela stopped at the top of the stairs. Her former fiancé was nailed to the chair, blood on his face and torso. His ripped abs and muscles were coated in a fine layer of the red substance. She went closer and snapped photos, face, torso, hands, and back- when she reached the back she recoiled; there was a splash of nasty scratches and what looked like whip lashes. Taking more photos she returned back to the front. She crouched in front of his body and looked up at his face. It was the same as she always remembered it, gorgeous, hot; there were many different words to describe him. She touched the side of his face. They hadn't removed the electrical strips to his chest. If it was possible, he seemed even more buffer, if that was possible. There was blood on his neck. She raised the camera and took another snap. She touched the area next to it and felt something. She touched harder and then felt it again. A pulse. She was sure of it.

"Brennan, Booth, Cam!!"

They all came running. She turned to face them and said,

"He has a pulse"


End file.
